[TR] Frostbite Peak- West Ridge Traverse 2/2/2005

[klenke]

Climb: Frostbite Peak-West Ridge Traverse

 

Date of Climb: 2/2/2005

 

Trip Report:

What makes an epic? There are no clear standards. Maybe this was an epic. Maybe it was only a mini-epic.

 

Like in every epic, a lot happened. I will attempt to keep this short and separate distinct events in "chapters." The entire story will not be provided here today. (This is partly because I haven't got all the film back.) So you can follow along or ignore. I leave that up to you.

 

Chapter 1 -- Once Frostbitten, Twice Shy?

Mike Collins and I had intended to climb Frostbite Peak (5,240+ ft, 880P) on Sunday, January 30, but iffy weather forced us to better Prospects instead. This peak is also known as Frostbite-Webber after the late Joan Webber; named by one of Frostbite's ascensionists from 1979. Beckey erroneously lists it as 5335 ft in his Green CAG (p. 34 in 2nd Edition). He also spells Joan Webber's name wrong.

 

Then it was Tuesday and my friend Don B. sent me an email asking for climb suggestions and whether I was interested in joining. I told him I had other plans but gave Frostbite Peak as one of his options. I was only half serious and perhaps I should have never sent him the map and Mitch Blanton's trip report. But then again, I'm glad I did seeing as how things turned out.

 

Later on that day Don notified me that he and James Hamaker would be going for Frostbite Peak. What?!! I can't let them do that without me. I've been Frostbitten for quite some time now and there was no way I was going to shy away from it twice in one week--especially with nice weather forecast. I needed to rearrange my commitments. By 8:00PM this was taken care of. Don told me Mike Collins would also be joining us so we were now a party of four. Two rope teams of two seemed like a better set-up.

 

Here are some pics of Frostbite:

From the east (from Mineral Butte) in February 2003:

From the west (from Static Peak) in March 2004:

 

Chapter 2 -- Trails, Twigs, and Traverses

Here Mike and I were at the Boulder Lake Trailhead a mere three days later. Mike relived memories of bivying in the sheltering entryway for the toilet. We set out from the car (1,650 ft) at 6:50AM. Our first destination was Boulder Lake (3,706 ft). The trail starts out as an old logging road before turning to a respectable trail with boardwalks where needed. It is about 3.5 miles to the lake. We made it there in about 90 minutes:

 

From the lake it is necessary to climb to the 4,260-ft saddle east of the the lake. There is a point north of this saddle that has an extra (5th) contour between bold contours. Depending on how you interpret this error, this outlier ridge may or may not have enough clean-rule prominence to meet the minimum 400-ft standard for we peakbaggers. I have called this ridge "Errant Peak" for the time being. It seems logical Boulder Lake dayhikers have climbed it. It would not be difficult except for the brush.

Here is a photo of "Errant Peak" from the southeast:

 

Speaking of brush, that was the first defense Frostbite foist upon us. But it was no match for us. We needed no weapons, no machetes, only stealth and skulk. Sure, we got twig-whipped from time to time. The brush was dense in places but, because it lacked foliage, it was easy to see one's tread. The higher we climbed the more open the terrain became. Near the saddle it was open forest.

 

From the saddle we took to the ridge southward for a short distance then dropped left (east) to gain the basin on the other side. There are cliffs and gullies to contend with but several options are available. We were amazed at the lack of the snow in the basin. It looked more like June. As amazed as we were we also were somewhat stressed to see fresh snow on Frostbite's North Face. Would it be too much of a defense for us to surmount? The West Ridge was a spine of crenellations and merlons.

 

We traversed the basin rather quickly on firm snow to a nice little flat area below the west end of the West Ridge. Here we ditched our poles and double-backed our harnesses. We could see the summit tower with its icy machicolations, but how to get to it? There's a gully over that way but it's a steep wall to get into its base. Since it require a descending traverse just to have a look we weren't enthused to go find out.

 

Chapter 3 -- Thou shalt not be Crestfallen this Day

We could see possible avenues to the West Ridge crest directly above. Several crenellation options looked viable but we had to get closer to know for sure which one would provide the weakest chink in Frostbite's armor. A steep snow climb got us to the base of cliffs. We swung slightly left to get to a high-angle ramp. The rocky transition slopes here were barely covered with snow, making for some slippery footing but we made it to a root belay. Here I took the lead for a 100-ft pitch to the crest. It started out as exposed Class 3 but eventually kicked up to Class 4 through a chaparral.

 

Though the chapparal intensely contested my sortie, I eventually squeezed my way through, trampling its stalwart trunks under my boots. I slung a large horn in the crenellation, anchored the rope as a fixed line, and allowed my compatriots to prusik their way up. From there I spied the backside of the battlement. The crest was not too bad for a short stretch to where a drop into an easy slope on the south could be made:

 

I continued in the lead with Mike on my rope. The crux of this section was getting around a small horn (Class 4):

 

Once past the trees and heather slope, we leapt back onto the battlement and soldiered on. We took it as far as we could but could see it ended in a turret:

 

We continued on until rocky defenders forced us back off the crest by way of a single-rope rap. This got us to a steep, semi-open slope. This was almost more difficult to climb than the crest due to the pasting of slushy snow. It's always fun to yard on little patches of heather for a green belay.

 

Since I was last to rappel the others had marched on ahead. I sincerely hoped they wouldn't be ambushed without me. I hurried to make up lost ground, narrowly averting slips here and there, and pulled up at the timbered saddle. James had contoured underneath the next turret. Don and Mike were busy climbing over it. I stopped for a photo or two, including a shot of where we had just come from.

 

Chapter 4 -- From the Scurlock Files

The second turret was dispatched without much difficulty. I went over the top like Don and Mike (Class 3+). On top of the turret I could see what final battlement lay ahead. It appeared that, once we got out of the deep notch on the other side, only one formidable gendarme (the alcayde) lay in wait between us and the summit:

 

While we were setting up for James' continuing lead up and along the crest from the notch, a bright yellow plane quickly flew in and back out of our hemmed in view. It was John Scurlock. I had told him we would be climbing Frostbite and that we'd be on the summit at between 1:00 and 1:30PM. Well, he was right on time but we weren't. The summit was still a couple of hours away.

 

Climbing out of the notch was pretty easy (Class 3+ but exposed). While Mike and I waited at the rear of the second rope (trailed by Don), John kept buzzing around. Had he seen James up top? Later, when he buzzed by quite close (not far above James' head), we knew he had spotted us. John later told me he now has a newfound respect for the difficulties S&R folks face spotting injured climbers in rocky terrain from a helicopter or plane.

 

Eventually all four of us had got out of the notch. I took a photo of the last turret, with its granite guns cocked and loaded:

 

We were now standing in plane view for the plane viewer. John circled around us maybe two-dozen times. He reminded me of Luke Skywalker zooming around through the legs of one of those AT-ATs in The Empire Strikes Back before releasing the cable to fell it. Moreover, from some of his approach vectors, he looked like he might strafe us with enfilading fire. Had the alcayde put him up to it?

I think that is Mike standing there. I might be that inhuman-looking blob to his right. {Thanks to John Scurlock for allowing me to use his image here.}

 

At this point we were only about 300 yards from the castle keep (the summit) but we still had difficult defenses to outflank, including the alcayde facing us off twenty feet away. James continued as point man. He had scouted right (south) of the alcayde but it was a no-go (nearly vertical wall). The only option seemed to be left onto the icy/snowy North Face. A climb over the top of the alcayde looked like it would require a 5.9-caliber weapon, which we didn't have (or didn't want to use on the somewhat chossy rock).

 

My how time flies during the heat of battle! It was now about 2:15PM. Three hours to dark...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stay tuned next week for the continuing saga....

[dberdinka]

Amazing lack of snow, looks more like September than January. Looking forward to rest of the story!

[Stefan]

Good write up with the pictures!

[texplorer]

Nice write up

[sobo]

Sweet write-up! Can't wait for the rest of the story.

 

Paul: As an aside, you have a nice grasp of less oft used lexicon, but I might add that it is difficult for a single "soldier" (in this case, Mr. Scurlock) to provide enfilading fire, since, by definition, an enfilade requires a plurality of weapons.

[klenke]

"...and enfilading fire requires a plurality of weapons."

 

I don't think that's a necessity. Enfilading fire speaks only of the arrangement of offense (weapon firer) and defense. I have heard the story of Sgt. York, who did his work solo, as being one where he killed German troops in WWI using enfilading fire, among other things. At least that is my recollection.

 

More at enfilade (and defilade) here.

Edited February 5, 2005 by klenke

[sobo]

Random House Dictionary: "enfilade - a sweeping fire from along the length of a line of troops"

 

The above definition appears to contradict your definition (i.e. marching troops are enfiladed if fired on from the front such that the gunfire traverses the length of the column. A line of advancing troops is enfiladed if fired on from the flank.), but I don't want to mince words with you, Paul. I just want to read the rest of your story. Carry on!

[lancegranite]

Nice TR, the lack of snow is shocking!

[Dru]

winter ascent vs. winter conditions, well illustrated

[sobo]

Paul,

 

I would agree that your diagram depicts what wikipedia defines as enfilade quite well. When I went to your link, that is the same image I had in my mind after reading the definition at wikipedia. "My" definition from Random House appears to be completely different, as I picture the RH definition as a line of "green" troops firing simultaneously at, and probably parallel to, a gathering of "red" troops, essentially trading bullets across the battlefield. That is why I suggested that a "plurality of weapons" would be required to qualify as an enfilade. I appear to be mistaken if I accept your definition.

 

Therefore, I shall stand corrected, since I am going to put more credence in the wikipedia definition than in my 20-year-old dictionary.

 

Good shooting, Suh! <salute>

 

...time to go back and watch Band of Brothers again...

 

Please excuse thread drift. Now post the rest of your TR!

[klenke]

...the saga continued...

 

Chapter 5 -- Slipping Up the Hill

We four soldiers strung ourselves out on the slippery, snowy North Face to bypass the alcayde. James had gone around the corner and I had a look to see if I could see him from a small ledge but could not. Meanwhile, the yellow reconnaissance plane spun around us again and again. Mike asked, "Who is that guy, again?", to which I replied, "It's Scurlock, holmes!" First James disappeared, then Don. The rope paid out very slowly. What's going on? Progress was really slow now. I was thinking the terrain must be quite heinous. Were defenders pouring boiling oil?

 

Eventually, I got to move. I passed by one sling wrapped around a tree. That was the extent of the pro James placed. Lots of pendulum factor, but there were enough trees to catch the rope (or you). I'm not sure if I'd call this portion the crux technically but it was definitely the butt-clenching crux. There were several spots where there was almost nothing to hold on to as a move was made either down a small rock wall or across a tiny ledge.

 

I curved around a corner through a tree squeeze and saw that Don had climbed past James to the notch beyond the alcayde. James was below him apparently managing the rope. Is it possible to slip uphill? I think so in unusual situations. This was one such situation. There were trees to hoick with the hands but the feet seemed to always be trammeling nothing more than steep heather. It's hard to call it scratching and clawing. Try to picture it: slippping uphill.

 

I made the crest and, trying to be funny, faked a big kiss to Don as I neared him. As I released my puckered lips, my foot simultaneously released from the small ledge I was on, thus backfiring my joke as I laid out like a beached walrus on the knife-edge crest. Anyway...I climbed along the sharp crest past Don. I could see a tree about 50 feet ahead to anchor to (Don's belay spot was too tight for two).

 

Once I belayed Mike up to my tree, I set out again. We were now within a 100 yards of the top of the castle keep. At first it looked problematic, but the ridge got easier and easier. It was mostly only Class 2-3. I pulled myself through the last crenellation and whupped it up. I had made the summit and the other three were right behind me.

 

Chapter 6 -- A Spot o' Tea?

We were entertained by nice views of the fief we had just conquered. The weather had improved markedly. When we started the climb the fortresses immediately to our north were experiencing light showers. Now there was hardly a cloud in the sky. However, this provided us with an ominous sign in the form of long shadows. Yep, it was 3:30PM and we're still on top of the keep. We needed to get off pronto. But not before consummating the summit photographing ritual.

 

Here's Don with the "famous" Twinings Tea tin register (careful with that axe, Eugene!):

 

I have mixed feelings about the register. It is a significant artifact given the small number of ascensionists of this peak. But it is the type that could use replacing with something more sturdy and not prone to rusting away. Maybe someone can go up there with a new register box in which the Twinings tin could fit. Inside the can, whose lid is sharp to the touch, there was a very small notebook wrapped in a plastic bag. Only three pages were filled in.

 

So how many people have climbed Frostbite? Including our contingent, it is likely the number is 12. Our climb was the 5th ascent (most likely) and the second winter ascent. First Ascent was in June 1977 (Brown & Zak). Second Ascent was in September 1979 (Bialos & Kroeker). First Winter Ascent was on December 28, 1979 (Ratliff & Wood) but was not in the register probably because it was buried in snow. Fourth Ascent and last in register before us was June 2003 (Blanton & Kloke). We can be fairly certain our climb of the complete West Ridge (sans westernmost tower) was a first. Also, our winter route from the Boulder Lake side (west side) was a first. Ratliff and Wood approached from the east (from Salmon Creek).

 

Here's Mike and me at the summit:

For reference, the valley bottom at right-center is that of the North Fork Skykomish River north of the town of Index. That is the Salmon Creek approach direction. It's about the same distance from car to peak but there's no trail to make use of. At right-center is Spire Peak, and to the left almost behind Mike is Mineral Butte where the first photo in this thread was taken from.

 

Don the GQ poseur triumphant on his new throne looking like a U.S. Army soldier in one of Saddam's old palaces:

 

Chapter 7 -- From Keep to Dungeon

"Don, put that loot down! We simply can't carry it all."

"But what spoils shall I take back to my wife and kids?"

"You know the climber's creed: take only pictures, leave only footprints. Okay, maybe you can take back a memory or two...but no more than two."

"Right, sir. Right you are!"

"Now, let's find a way to leap from this keep."

 

We initially began setting up for a rappel to the notch thence prominent gully on the east side of the summit. As James was prepping the anchor for that, I thought I'd better have a look down the NE Ridge. Sure enough, it was the preferred descent option. If we went down the east gully, we'd have to make an uncertain traverse leftward back onto the NE Ridge anyway. So we might as well rappel directly down onto the ridge from the start.

 

We rappelled from a large horn down the upper NE face of the summit. It was now about 4:15PM. Only about 90 minutes of light left and we've still got a long way to go (with four people rappeling, mind you). Here's blue-eyed James on the first rappel with the NE Ridge behind him (way down below is Elk Creek):

 

And here is a look up at the first rappel off the summit:

 

While the others performed their raps I descended ahead to scout out our next rappel. The ridge was steep and snowcovered but the snow was getting firm. I gingerly kicked steps and used my axe and green belays. I took the time to search for the best anchor location but all rap lines were obscured by trees and brush. Eventually, I made a decision, affixed a sling, and waited for my compatriots.

 

Our next rappel began with me making a blind descent through (under) boughs and, to my annoyance, through a dense patch of huckleberry brush. After that, I found myself on a steep, wet rock face beside a gully with rope management issues. It was now deep gloaming. As I fought with the tangled rat's nest while straddling two very thin ledges, I hoped there was enough rope to make the base of the wall. We were nowhere near the base of the west side of the ridge. At least one more double-rope rap would be required. That one would have to be done in complete darkness, as if descending straight into a deep, dark dungeon.

 

The rope made the bottom of the wall and I took a few minutes to locate the best tree there for our next rap. The problem was that the light level was so low that I couldn't see very well under the tree limbs to ascertain the worthiness of this trunk or that. My only option was a sizable trunk to rappeler's left, but it was on a moderately steep slope AND began with a rap through more brush. It would have to do.

 

I called "off rappel" and got out my headlamp to set up the next anchor. Don came down and wondered where I was. I shone my headlamp to guide his way slightly left to me.

 

James initiated the next rappel. He descended through the brushy beginning then out of sight. We could keep track of his progress by where his headlamp illuminated the terrain around him. His rappel seemed to go on forever and the rest of us nearly dozed off leaning against our respective trees. We were tired and quiet. The hours of palavering had long passed. It was now about 6:00PM and completely dark. No moon (in its last quarter that night) had yet appeared. Nictitating gangs of stars gazed down at us and laughed at our shenanigans.

 

When it was finally my turn to rappel I reached for my ATC and discovered it was missing. I searched my belongs and the ground beneath me for it but couldn't find it. I must have dropped it. There goes my rappel device. And all that time I was waiting there nearly falling asleep at the tree I could have been looking around for it. Fortunately, I was not stymied. I knew how to do carabiner-brake rappel (but had not done one for a few years). It took me three tried to get it right (I'll spare you the details of how I screwed up). This was not the time or place to make an error. It's no fun rappeling in the dark. Now add to that the uncertainty of your rappel set up and you can see there's even more stress. I couldn't lollygag forever. I eventually had to weight the system and remove my personal anchor.

 

A carabiner-brake rappel is actually quite smooth--probably smoother than an ATC rappel. I easily plunged through the brush and came to a small ledge. James hollered up from below to have me redirect the rope to rappeler's right down a rock face. He had gone left into more brush because he was worried he would run out of rope on the wall. He said the rope will make it down the wall. So there I was on that small ledge tugging up the rope strands, coiling them, and tossing them all with one hand while keeping my other hand on the rope above a brake. Of course the first time I tossed the ropes they got tangled again. I would have to coil them up and throw them individually.

 

Finally I finished my rappel and joined James at a small snow ridge in a notch. While Mike came down above me, James had me scout out a steep couloir leading down from the snow ridge. He wasn't sure if it would go--especially without an ice axe since James didn't have one. I surmised it was a viable route off the ridge and into the north basin. Woohooo! The snow was steep and firm but, with care, was easy to manage.

 

All four of us finished off the ridge and contoured back across the snowy dungeon to our trekking pole stash. What a relief that's over. It was now about 7:45PM.

 

Chapter 8 -- Brush Up Your Brushwhacking Skills

I estimated three hours to get back to the car. James wasn't so sure.

 

We made great time re-crossing the NW basin. We got back to the gully we needed to climb to gain the saddle east of Boulder Lake in about 20 minutes. Because it was dark we couldn't see the exact location we needed to begin ascending. Naturtally, we found ourselves in the steepest brush possible. Add to that a little bit of Class 4 mossy slab. We were probably only 50 feet from where Don and I had come down 10 hours earlier but when it's dark that might as well be 500 feet.

 

The brush bash down the other (west) side of the saddle back to the trail was not too hard. All the brush was laying that way, so we were going "with the grain" so to speak. At about 9:30PM we plopped onto the trail and took a much needed break. Now there were only 3.3 miles of trail separating us from clean clothes, beverages, potato chips, and sleep (driver not included).

 

We arrived at the car at 10:35PM--16 hours and 45 minutes round-trip. For me, this ranks as the second longest one-day ascent, second only to my 22-hour climb of Mt. Buckner from the Eldorado Trailhead in 1997.

 

Postscript

Were we a little disappointed none of us had gotten frostbite on the climb? Not in the least. Albeit, there was some irony in the fact that Mike had got minor frostbite on one of his fingertips a few weeks prior on Ruby Mountain.

 

Here is a view of our route (thanks to John Roper for allowing me to use his photo, which was taken from the slopes of Red Mountain on 6/12/99). Pink line is up. Yellow is rappeling. Green is downclimbing.

 

We are of the opinion that the easiest/quickest way to climb the peak would be to go up the way we came down. You will have two pitches of Class 4 terrain to get from the north basin to the NE Ridge then a little bit of Class 4/5 on the left side of the summit tower (see the left side of the previoius rappeling shot). Blanton & Kloke climbed up the obvious couloir in the center of the North Face, except they took the right-hand branch where the snowfinger splits. They apparently were halfway up that branch when they noticed the left branch to the deep notch looked easier.

 

Gear

Small alpine rack--a couple of cams, a few chocks. Bring lots of runners--doubles mostly--to sling trees and horns. Also, bring throwaway webbings for rappel anchors. Ice axe would be handy in early season.

This stuff --> is also good to have in the car for the return.

[Squid]

 

PK, you push the limits of purple prose.

 

 

Thanks for the TR.

[klenke]

Views from the mountain:

 

[sunyata]

what a great TR- very entertaining to read

 

"butt-clenching crux"

[Stefan]

Nice report. I can't believe Bear was basically snow free at the time of the picture taking.

 

Wow.

[klenke]

John Scurlock was in the area on Tuesday (Feb. 8). He had a chance to take some outstanding photos of Frostbite Peak...with fresh snow on it.

{Photos used with permission.}

 

Here is a view of the unclimbed South Face:

 

Here is a view of the east side and the NE Ridge:

 

Here is a view of the NE Ridge and unclimbed North Face. The two orange dots mark the location of our rap stations to get off the ridge; the green dot is the base of the second rap where we were able to downclimb the rest of the way to the North Basin. Blanton & Kloke went up the gully at far right, taking the right branch to the crest:

[Kitergal]

Gawd those are awesome photos!!!